United Kingdom Reparations

ZA DAVIES POEM UNITED KINGDOM REPARATIONS

You chained my forefathers for being Black,
You enslaved my ancestors for what you lack.
You envied their members, their shape, their size,
Which made you feel lesser, lacking in pride.
As an admittance of feeling inferior,
You severed their genitals to feel superior.
You separated families, man, woman, child,
They cried, they bled, they died, you smiled.
For millions of servants, no escape,
You lied, you beat, you tarred, you raped.
You weren’t alone in wielding atrocities,
Perpetrating evil from across raging seas,
Brutality also reigned in God’s name,
From ministries spouting spiritual domains,
Of discourse, practise, community, institution,
Churches took part for a financial contribution.
Owning human chattel, their pockets weighed deep,
As the flesh of the captured were maimed and fleeced.
British royalty played an imperative hand,
In slave ownership and robbing wealth from the land.
Shall we take revenge? Is that what you fear?
Is that why black men, even today, you revere?
Not just for bedding your women with their charms,
Are you scared they will one day gather up arms?
Do you imagine being taken one by one,
Export you to where their forefathers came from?
Envisage if this was done by force,
Subjugate whites, east, west, south and north.
Haul them to Africa by ocean in a boat,
Deny them liberty and a right to vote,
Carry them across waters packed like sardines,
Feed them rotten food and water from the seas.
If they request more sustenance, typical, it’s greed.
Beat them; tend not to wounds if they bleed.
Should supplies not suffice for crew endurance,
Throw whites overboard, claim on insurance.
House them in huts, put them to work,
Batter them more if labour they shirk.
Have them pick cotton, force sex with their wives,
Prevent them from learning, quash those who thrive.
Form plantations, make them build roads,
Accumulate wealth from the ones you have sold.
Pass on blood money to your next of kin,
Give none to whites, don’t let them back in.
To grow a continent and make it nourish,
Is this a way for Africa to flourish?
Prolific slave labour, imprisoning whites,
Murder all those who put up a fight.
Gaddafi preached before he was smothered,
People of colour far outnumber the others,
But it wouldn’t be Africa’s finest hour,
‘Sides, subordinates do not yield power,
You still view us as lesser than,
You still see black males lower than a man.
Challenge us on an equal footing,
Instead of continually putting the boot in.
It always seems impossible until it’s done,
Said Nelson Mandela, a divine, majestic son.
For now, we’ll take for what you did to our nation,
An apology, followed by, monetary reparations.